I force open the back of Style’s raw-rep with forceps
Drain your blood and guts just to paint your mom’s doorstep
I force-heads to listen; if you miss it you’ll regret
I’ll upset the bets so get your record reset
I come with a better-force of metaphors so let-ya-jaws drop
Hurt ya ‘whole body’…. stomp on the sore-spot
Few can ‘test’ this, my IQ leaves you breathless
I’m restless you’ve delayed and got more 'played lines' than Tetris
I’ll wreck-this, its stressless but expect a bad mood
Don’t expect to have fun coz I don’t play with my food

YOU BETTER SHOW OR I'LL PUT IN THE CREW SIG FOR CONTAGIOUS SO EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT A BITCH YOU ARE